


By The Light of the Fire

by MaxRev



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Fireplaces, M/M, Smut, Snowed In, warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-05 10:02:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12792204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxRev/pseuds/MaxRev
Summary: Winter hits the Commonwealth hard, so Boone and Danse hunker down in Sanctuary.





	By The Light of the Fire

Winter in the Commonwealth was a force to be reckoned with. The wind howled hauntingly around the house while snow drifted sideways past the window. Everyone who'd made Sanctuary their home over the last year had pitched in to make sure each house was free of drafts and holes for the coming winter. Boone hoped everyone in the rest of the settlements he’d helped establish had done the same and were safe inside their homes.

“What was the weather like in this area before the war?” Danse stood at the stove waiting for the water to boil. Frustration was just starting to creep into his tone at the amount of time it was taking. 

Boone debated on sharing the cliche "a watched pot never boils" but decided against it. Things like that usually backfired on him. Instead, he concentrated on his own task. 

“It varied, was usually completely unpredictable. Sometimes it rained. And as far as the temperature, a lot of the times it was warm and mild. Then, in the blink of an eye, a blizzard would blow through and snow would be piled in front of your door. In fact, the day the bombs fell, we were getting ready for Halloween. The weather had been warm and sunny. Colorful leaves still on the trees around here. It was beautiful.”

Ghostly images shimmered in his mind but Boone pushed them away. That life was over now.

Focusing back on the present, he wasn't exactly sure how things had happened the way they did. Somehow, he found himself in his old house in Sanctuary, holed up for the winter with Danse as a roommate. Just before this latest storm, they'd managed, with the aid of Preston and a several of the Minutemen, to secure all settlements with necessary supplies in the event they couldn't get out or the traders were snowed in for longer than expected. There'd be no travel for anyone unless it was an emergency that exceeded the capabilities of the settlers themselves.

Squatting down in front of the fireplace, Boone was using a two-hundred-year-old Boston Globe newspaper as a firestarter. The threat of bombs was hardly headline material anymore. Those headlines were of little importance now.

It never ceased to amaze him at Sturges' ingenuity.  The man was brilliant and had, along with a few of the most recent newcomers who’d shown a skill for fixing things, managed to equip each house with a working fireplace. Everyone else had pitched in here and there to bring in beds and furniture into the warmest rooms and every able bodied person, men and women alike, had gone out and chopped firewood. Each house had its own supply and there was a community supply nearby to restock, just in case.

Boone had planned to be long gone, hopefully somewhere down south, by the time winter hit this area. Looking over his shoulder, he gazed at Danse -- a change of plans had made him stay. A rare smile transformed his face. His feelings for Danse were a surprise to himself as well as to the ex-BoS soldier. Even so, he’d never imagined ending up in _this_ house with all of its memories. Time may have caused them to fade like the memory of song but being here, in this house, was like hearing the melody anew, strong and persistent.

In close proximity to the music, the ghosts of his former life came alive everywhere he turned. Whispers turned to shouts of a long dead wife and son, of Shaun as a baby, shadows that had simply lurked at the corners of his vision before. It was creepy and sad and disturbed him greatly, though he kept it to himself. Despite assuring Preston he had no desire to stay here, the man had insisted. Stating "the General can't sleep in the crew's quarters." Boone’s many protests fell on deaf ears. The head of the Minutemen had packed some things and moved across the street. Even he wasn't staying with the men. 

Attention once again turning back to what he was supposed to be doing, the fire caught quickly. Orange flames flickered and grew, the wood cracking and splitting as the fire licked at it greedily. Boone stood up, stretching the kinks out of his back. His arms reached high to the ceiling as he twisted at the waist.

Turning towards the couch they’d pulled close to the fireplace, he noticed Danse staring at his back, where his shirt had ridden up for a second or two. Hunger showed on his features.

Their eyes caught, held for a quick second before Danse turned away, color blooming across his cheeks. Boone wasn’t exactly shy but falling for Danse was a new experience. Danse, on the other hand, was painfully shy and awkward when it came to anything personal. Having traveled with him for so long now, no one knew that better than he did.

Smiling to himself, Boone sat down on the couch to enjoy the warmth, stretching one arm along the back of the couch as he propped his feet up on the coffee table. That earned a hard glare from Danse but he just shrugged in response. The table was already scarred and scuffed. It wasn't like he could do much more damage to it. Relaxing for the first time in awhile, Boone realized eh could get used to this, though maybe in another house, another settlement. Maybe even somewhere other than Boston.

“Here you go.”

That deep baritone voice sent warmth rushing through Boone. It was getting warm in here and he wasn’t naive enough to blame it all on the flames in the fireplace. The couch dipped down as Danse sat at the other end, body angled towards Boone.  He relaxed against the worn cushions, blowing on his hot chocolate to cool it down, steam caressing his face. Boone could watch him all day. Taking a sip of his own hot chocolate, a rare find in the Commonwealth and one he’d been hoarding for a good while, Boone closed his eyes as well. Even though the house made him somewhat uncomfortable, he found himself enjoying the peaceful moment. 

Hearing a moan from the other end of the couch, which did decidedly wicked things to his body, Boone glanced over at Danse. The man’s eyes were closed and the look on his face was one of pure pleasure. A wicked thought crossed Boone’s mind, wondering if he could inspire that same look. However, a few kisses that lead to makeout sessions did not a relationship make, in or out of bed. He would have to go very slowly with Danse when it came to that. But they were getting there. 

Staring at the flames in the fire, Boone's thoughts took an erotic turn and he shivered at the images that played in his mind. He started when Danse spoke up, having been completely lost in the moment. 

“Are you cold? I could put more would on the fire.”

“No, no. It’s okay. We should be careful with what we have.”

“Indeed. Rationing is a worthwhile goal to get us all the way through the winter. Needlessly using our supply would be unwise.”

Lips tipping up at the corners at Danse's use of words, Boone resisted the urge to laugh. Apparently, he wasn’t entirely successful at hiding his feelings.

“Are you laughing at me?”

Turning to look at Danse, Boone found himself completely lost in those deep brown eyes. Laughter shone in their depths, the edges crinkling at the corners. Even his lips were upturned in a smile. Boone found that when Danse smiled, his whole demeanor was transformed. It caused his breathe to lodge in this throat.

“I….uh, never, Danse. I wouldn’t laugh at you.”

“Hmph.” The noncommittal answer was his only response.

Standing up, Boone went to the sink to rinse out his mug. He didn't like leaving dirty dishes lying about. As he walked back towards the couch, skirting around the bar, he ran right into Danse. The ex-soldier had finished his hot chocolate as well and had been headed to wash out his own mug.

Face to face, Boone lost himself in intense brown eyes and full lips. Lips that parted as he continued to stare at them. Blue eyes searched brown, the firelight reflected in them, making the brown shine like burnished copper. As they stood there, frozen in place, Boone was swept up in emotion, one that wouldn’t be denied.

He stared at the parted lips a split second before leaning in and crushing them under his own. Realization came with a start -- he was hungry for this contact. Danse froze, hands out to the sides, his awkwardness apparent. Boone slowed down, limiting himself to simply tasting and teasing those full, soft lips and nothing more. A fierce hunger swept through him but he banked the fires, focusing all his attention on Danse.

Doing nothing more than simply kissing, he finally felt Danse relax and join in the kiss, though hesitantly. Giving the man a brief respite, he grabbed the mug and set it behind him. Leaning in once again, Boone softened this kiss even more. Grasping Danse’s hands in his own, he placed them on his hips. The quiet strength in the other man’s body settled something deep inside him, like he was coming home after a lifetime away.

Leaning against the warm, strong body, Boone reveled at how they fit together so perfectly. Fingers sliding slowly up underneath Danse’s shirt, his heartbeat stuttered at the heated skin-to-skin contact. The strong muscles underneath his fingertips jumped at the featherlight touch. His lips tipped up as Danse moaned in response and deepened the kiss all on his own.

Moving away from Danse's mouth, Boone took his time trailing kisses along the stubbled jawline. Danse sighed and tilted his head to give Boone better access as he licked and nipped his way down. At the same time, Boone trailed his fingers down the well-muscled abs and slid them just beneath the waistband of Danse’s jeans, excitement unfurling in his chest at the sharp intake of breath it caused.

Deft fingers unhooked the button before slowly pushing down the zipper, hand slipping inside and caressing the hardened length. A moan echoed around them, Boone cutting it off with a thorough kiss that left them both breathless.

Pulling back, he stared into those deep brown eyes and what he saw almost had him losing control right there. Pupils blown wide, a heavy-lidded gaze of pure want.

“Are you okay with this, Danse? We can stop if--”

His words were cut off, Danse moving towards _him_ , initiating a kiss. One hand slid up his side and across his chest before tangling in his hair. Boone tilted his head, unable to hold back a moan, as the kiss deepened and Danse’s tongue slid past his lips.

Putting a hand against the solid chest and pushing lightly, he waited for the kiss to end. Making sure Danse was looking at him, he confessed, “I want to taste you.”

Danse stared at him for several seconds and then did something completely unexpected. Boone heard a low growl as Danse pushed up against him, letting him feel just how much he was affected by their foreplay, though that had not been the intention. Still, Boone needed no more persuasion.

Grasping the briefs along with the jeans, he slid his body down against Danse’s, knees coming to rest on the floor. Reaching out a hand, he wrapped it around the base as his mouth closed over the tip, tongue circling round and round. Tilting his head, he watched Danse’s head fall backwards while his hips jerked forward.

Taking his time, bringing Danse just to the brink only to back off again, Boone reveled in the heady feeling of taking care of the other man like this. Not wanting to tease him any longer, Boone increased the pace of his rhythm until Danse came with a muttered curse, body relaxing bonelessly as he slid down onto the arm of the couch.

Boone felt something settle in his chest, sitting there at Danse’s feet, watching the unguarded emotion on the former soldier’s face. It was a look of contentment, something he’d never seen before. It was beautiful.


End file.
